Gales of Fire: Frontier
by DrBlowhole1
Summary: A present-day soldier of the U.S. navy, Trent, thought that fighting for his country in Afghanistan couldn't be any worse. This all changes when he is abducted by an alien race and somehow transported into Spyro's world where he must fight. As a dragon.
1. Prologue: Disaster Strikes

**GALES OF FIRE: [FRONTIER]**

**By: DarkLightEternal549**

_PROLOGUE: Disaster Strikes_  
><strong> New York, New York; September 11, 2001: 8:46 a.m.<strong>

It was a busy day in New York City. What could have been going on that was making this place so lively today?

11-year-old Trent Carson was at the side of his mother down the road from the large building that was known as the World Trade Center. Two large towers of buildings made up this spectacular landmark that his father worked at every Monday to Friday. To Trent, it was the most spectacular thing he had every seen his entire life. He wanted to grow up to work there just like his dad.

Normally, his parents would never let him come with them on the job, but today was different. Today was Bring-Your-Kid-To-Work-Day. He wasn't in school; they had a parent-teacher conference today. Today was just himself, dad, and a giant stack of filing paper.

"Come along now, Trent. You're father is waiting," said his mother, who was just dropping him off.

Trent looked at the tall man standing in front of the entrance to Tower 2. He had a deep grin on his face and his hand was waving miraculously to his son in joy.

Trent looked up at his mom in anticipation. He turned back to his father and walked toward him. His mother followed behind him.

"Hey, sport! You ready for a big day?" asked his father. "Did you bring a pencil to right all of my directions down?"

Trent nodded. "Yes, father." He reached into his pocket and gasped as he saw that there was nothing in it. He looked around himself and stopped when he saw his pencil lying on the sidewalk a few meters away.

His mother looked at his father with a quizzical look. She turned back to watch her son as he walked over to retrieve his pencil.

Trent reached down and grabbed his pencil. He held it up in excitement to his father. Just as he did this, he could have sworn he felt a gush of wind blow past him. A loud engine began to buzz through the air.

Trent looked up to see what it was and immediately regretted it. To his shock, several human beings were flinging themselves from a passing airplane and falling to their dooms. Why would they do such a thing?

Then a loud bang was heard as the airplane fell from the sky and crashed into the street a few blocked away.

Trent gasped and looked up at Tower 2 as fire and debris rained down amongst the disaster. His next instinct was to look at his parents, but just as he did, the tower's base gave away and crumbled down, covering the entire road ahead of him with debris, just barely missing himself.

Then the first tower collapsed.

Trent stepped back from the disaster. He couldn't believe his eyes as several news stations, ambulances, and civillians rushed over to the scene. All of the disaster and her made him freeze in his place.

A black-haired man in an ambulance suit rushed over to the paralyzed Trent. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT? ARE YOU HURT?"

A tear brushed down Trent's face as the man picked him up off his feet and carried him over to an ambulance to have him checked for any injuries.

"Don't worry, we'll help you," said a red-haired woman as they slowly began to close the ambulance doors, trapping him inside.

But just before they locked him in, he managed to see one last thing out of the corner of his eye. In the alley outside, was a cloaked, shadowy figure. And it was watching him.


	2. Chapter One: Mists in Battle

_CHAPTER ONE: Mists in Battle_  
><strong>Afghanistan, Iraq; November 15, 2011: 6:55 p.m.<strong>

The dunes of Iraq were very hot today. All of the United States Navy had been out at war all day. Most of the men had been out invading the city a little way out to the west, but some people had stayed back to protect the U.S. base from the attacking Iraq settlers.

A tall, brown-haired man cloaked in a camouflaged uniform hid behind the nearby sand dune. His eyes were a deep brown color, and his arms had normal-sized muscles.

Another man crouched next to him, AK47 in hand. He had blond hair and blue eyes. He also was the same in strength. Tyler Marks.

"How you doing, Trent?" asked Tyler as he looked across from where he was crouching, just barely avoiding a bullet shot by an Arabian.

"Good. I think we might win this war," said Trent as he pulled out a shotgun and fired one shot at a unsuspecting Arab that had ignorantly approached across the sand right in front of him.

"Only time can tell. We won't stand a chance if they launch those nukes like they said they were going to," said Tyler as he blew a man's head clean off with a round of bullets.

"Yeah..."

Tyler had been Trent's friend all of his life. They both signed up for the war for the same reasons. Revenge. Trent's parents had died in the 9/11 tragic, and Tyler's father happened to be flying in the plane when it struck. They both were orphans. Friends forever. It just happened to be luck that they were assigned to the same stations.

"See you at supper..." said Tyler as he threw himself across an open area and disappeared beyond the next dune.

Trent sighed and gasped as a man ran up right in his face and attempted to stab him in the gut.

The man fell, a cut in his chest from Trent's pocket knife.

Trent looked around to make sure the area was secure, it was, and ran across to a back area behind all of the dunes. He quickly threw a grenade over the sand to make sure no one was following and turned to go find an alternate route.

A surge of light erupted in the air. His ears cried out in pain as a loud buzz flew through his brain and clogged it up. That's when he realized he was in the middle of a flash-bang. Several of them. All going off at once.

All Trent could see outside of the smoke was a dark and shadowy mist that was coming in from all around him. Mist? This couldn't have been a sand storm! It just couldn't; he could sense it.

After what felt like an eternity, the smoke cleared. Just as he thought he was safe, a bulky hand was grabbing him. A green, warty hand.

Before he could turn around to respond, the creature covered his mouth and slapped his weapon away. The mysterious figure kicked him in the gut and smacked him across the head.

Trent slumped to the ground, out cold.

The figure chuckled softly and grabbed ahold of the human in front of him. It threw him over its meaty back and walked off into the mist.


	3. Chapter Two: Grohg Ze Mezeri

_CHAPTER TWO: Grohg Ze Mezeri_  
><strong>Unknown Location; November 15, 10:56 p. m.<strong>

A blur of darkness. Stones hitting stones. Bones raking metal. Where was he?

Trent awoke to the sound of several deep voices. A banging of guns. Was he back in the base?

He was still wearing his camouflage clothes as he stood up off the metallic ground that he had been asleep on for what felt like forever. He was in a room. A door blocked his way out.

Trent approached the door with caution and looked at its window. He gasped in fright.

What he saw on the other side of the door was not a desert, or a base, or anything on Earth. He saw several stars drifting through space. Comets and meteors were flying through the sky.

A harsh voice began to ring outside the door.

Trent pressed his ear to the door and eavesdropped on the conversation.

"You mean to say that he doesn't have the scroll?" growled the voice.

"Yes, Commander Mezeri. We searched through his belongings a few minutes ago. The scroll is not in his possession," said a squeaky voice that would probably belong to a scientist back at home.

"Fool!" roared Commander Mezeri as he smacked the scientist hard in the back. "We can't travel to the Place Unknowing if we don't have the scroll!"

"Sorry, master. Maybe we grabbed the wrong guy?"

"Of course we didn't grab the wrong guy, you twit. I saw the look in his eyes. He had the Mark of Xavier," explained Mezeri in a mysterious voice.

Trent looked around himself in confusion. The Mark of Xavier?

"Perhaps you are right, master, but please keep your voice down. The prisoner should be waking up any moment now..." said the scientist.

"Very well..." said Mezeri as he walked off in the opposite direction. "Plot a direct course for The Magic Dimension."

"Yes, Sir," said the scientist.

Trent waited for a long moment until he was sure they were gone. So many questions were ringing through his head. Who were his captors? Why did they want him? Where was he? What was the Mark of Xavier?

A few more minutes went by with complete silence and anticipation. Suddenly, the door slowly opened. Trent immediately jumped back.

In stepped a large, monstrous, blue creature with a red scar across his right eye. "Rise in shine, boy. What is your name?"

Trent gulped. "T-Trent. What's yours?"

"My name is Grohg Ze Mezeri, captain of the Star Seeker," said the creature, "And you need to come with me this instant."

"Why? Why are you holding me hostage? Let me go!" cried Trent.

Grohg let out a bellowing laugh as his stomach bulged. "You really believe I'm going to let you go that easily? You really are a dumbass, aren't you?" He clutched Trent's hand and pulled him out of the room.

Trent reached into his pocket with his spare hand in order to retrieve his pocket knife.

"Don't try it; we already confiscated your weapons..." said Grohg as he pulled Trent across the starboard.

A thought struck Trent. If he was really in outer space, then how come he wasn't suffocating from the loss of air?

As if Grohg had read his mind, he explained, "You may be wondering why you are able to live in this place. Well, it is all in the magic. In this place, you don't need a silly suit to breathe."

Trent felt a little more secure. He also got a very good look at the Star Seeker. Several smaller creatures that looked just like Grohg except for the different colors of skin were running around the ship in hard labor.

The Star Seeker was pointed straight at a green cosmos.

Trent assumed that this was the so-called Magic Dimension that Mezeri has spoken of.

Without warning, Grohg launched Trent through the air and onto the iron deck.

Trent gasped with pain as he hit the solid deck and looked up at his captor. Before he could make a run for it, several green and red creatures grabbed ahold of his arms and held him there on the edge of falling off the Star Seeker and into the nothingness of the universe.

"Now," said Grohg, "Tell us where you have hidden the scroll."

Trent was confused. What scroll? He had never even seen a scroll in his entire life!

"Well?"

"I don't know! I've never even heard of this scroll you speak of!" exclaimed Trent.

"Liar! Tell us where it is, and we'll make this as painful as possible!"

Trent sighed and looked to the side. He was surrounded by the outer reaches of the universe; he wouldn't be able to just escape. If he didn't give them what he wanted, then he would surely be murdered... _or worse_.

"Well?" Asked Mezeri as he stomped is foot. Trent noticed that he was carrying a strange-looking sword with several spikes in the handle bar. Bad. Then Trent saw the dagger in his pocket. Very bad.

Trent thought for a moment, trying to decide what to say. He had to answer.

"I-I dropped it. When you brought me out here, I accidentally dropped it outside my cell," explained Trent, who was clearly lying at his mind's intent.

Mezeri peered down the deck toward where had brought the prisoner, not falling for it one bit. Surpringly, he responded. "Well? Go pick it up."

Trent shuttered and looked at the creature as he took a few steps down toward his room. He gulped as he reached his room. Suprisingly, he found a woolen blanket that the creatures must have given him when he was knocked out.

Thinking, Trent wrapped the blanket up into a bundle and held it up.

All of the creatures gasped.

Grohg growled. "Give it to me!"

Trent immediately threw it over the edge of the ship. He watched it fly through space and time, several crewmen diving off the ship in desperation to rescue it.

In the time of shock, Trent rushed to the rudder of the ship. He looked over the edge. Space. He turned around and looked at the captain's quarters. Perhaps Mezeri had a few weapons he could use as defense?

Before he could grab ahold of the door to walk in, the bulchy hand of the blue captain clutched his hand.

"What are you doing? Trying to make a run for it, eh?" Asked the captain as he held Trent up to his face.

Trent cried, dangling through the air by his arm.

"Why, I outta-!" growled Mezeri. But before he could finish his statement, a large boom could be heard.

Next thing they knew, the front half of the ship was a blaze in an attack.

Mezeri threw Trent to the ground in pure anger as he trailed off into the fire storm, in search of the problem.

A siege perhaps? Well, it didn't matter for him anyway. Trent stood up off the deck and opened Mezeri's door.

However, as soon as he opened it, a fireball rained through the sky and exploded on the middle half of the ship, sending Trent flying back.

Trent cried out in fright as he flew through the air and grabbed ahold of the closest thing to him. That was when he realized he was dangling over the edge of space.

What happened next was drastic as a shadowed figure walked out of the smoke and despair. THE shadowed figure. The one from 9/11.

"What are you doing here? Who are you! Let me go!" Cried Trent as he struggled to climb back up onto the ship.

The cloaked figure looked out him in a disgraceful silence. The figure then lifted a foot and stomped on Trent's hand hard.

"No!" Cried Trent as he lost his grip of the deck and fell. He fell far, far through the universe.

Trent thought this was the end. He was sure of it. Drifting through space for eternity, never to see anyone again.

And, in a miraculous wave, a flash of light echoed throughout the galaxy right next to him.

A surge of panic filled Trent's soul as he was sucked into an unknown abyss in a deep wave of power. A black hole.


	4. Chapter Three: The Magic Dimension

_Chapter 3: The Magic Dimension_

**The Magic Dimension, The Valley of Avalar; November 16, 7:97 C.D.**

Grass. Plenty of it. All brushing against his skin.

Trent opened his eyes. He was lying on the grass in a forest. Then he remembered last night. The abduction. Grohg Ze Mezeri. Flying into a black hole...

Trent shook his head in disbelief. It all must have been a dream. A cruel, sick dream. There was no way he could have flown straight into a black hole and still survive, let alone wind up in a forest. It just wasn't possible.

Maybe it was something he ate for breakfast... What was it? A dried biscuit with dried gravy and sour milk? A rotten apple? Heck, for all he knew, he could have been drinking a booj. And that was against Navy protocol...

"Are you lost?"

"Ah!" cried Trent, nearly having a heart attack in the process. Then he saw who was standing in front of him.

What appeared to be a mole in a waistcoat and pants stood before him. It had on spectacles, and a pocket watch dangled from its pocket. Its briches were way too tight, Trent could tell by the way the button was about to explode. A mole-sized cane completed the outfit, giving a perfect representation of someone old.

Trent looked up at the mole with a confused look. He peered at the mole and attempted to pet him on the back. "Look at you! Never in my life have I ever seen something as adorable as you. Who dressed you up, little fellow?"

The mole rolled his eyes and smacked Trent's outstretched hand away with his cane. "First of all, I am not cute. I am not adorable. I am not a pet!"  
>Trent attempted to crawl his way back a few paces, but to no prevail.<p>

"Y-y-you just talked!" Exclaimed Trent in bewilderment.

"Of course I just talked, you idiot! What do I look like, a mole?" Growled the mole in anger. "Don't answer that question."

"W-well, how are you talking? I mean, not to sound rude, but I'm pretty sure moles aren't supposed to talk. What happened? Did the scientists put a voice analyzer or something on you?" Asked Trent in wonder.

"Sie-in-tests? What is a sie-in-test?" Questioned the mole.

"You mean you've never heard of a scientist? They're the guys who discovered the laws of physics. Space travel. They discovered the cell..." explained Trent.

"Oh, you mean the High Ancestors?" Asked the mole.

Trent widened his eyes in wonderment. "The High Ancestors? What's that?"

"Oh, my g-" sighed the mole, clearly annoyed by his lack of knowledge. "You mean to say that you've never even heard of Clerus? Hielvile? Not even Apparatus? Wow. I thought all dragons knew who the First Born were..."

"Wait, what do you mean... dragons? Those don't even exist."

The mole widened his eyes and stepped back from him. He shook his head. "That's it; I'm talking to a lunatic. Better get away from him, Walter."

"What do you mean, er- Walter?" Asked Trent with concern in his eyes. "Are you seriously suggesting that dragons exist?"

"Suggesting? Suggesting? Son of a -" growled Walter as he smacked his forehead and looked at Trent in annoyance. "And I thought Rodney was the stupidest dragon..."

"Oh, will you shut it about dragons already?" Shrieked Trent. Then he stopped. "Wait... what do you mean stupidest dragon?"

Trent looked across the grass and stopped. A puddle had formed right next to him from what appeared to be rain.

"Feed you to the grublins, I should..." Sighed Walter as he spat at the ground.

But Trent wasn't listening. He was too busy staring at the puddle. Or rather, what was IN the puddle.

Walter noticed the frightened look on Trent's face. "You OK? Scared by your own reflection? Wow..."

"No-no-n-no-n-no! No! This can't be happening!" Cried Trent as he tried to stand up and back away from the puddle, but to no prevail. It was as if his legs were asleep. He felt for his legs, but instead felt dirt clinging to his feet.

Trent looked down at himself and gasped in fright. The reflection was right.

"Oh, what are you going on about now, dragon?" Asked Walter.

"I-I-I'm a d-d-dragon! H-how?" Asked Trent. His reflection was right. Instead of having skin on his body, he had camoflauge-patterned scales. Each was a dark shade of green and brown.

He no longer had five toes and two legs, but rather three claws and four legs. Dirt was clinging to what he now realized were his claws.

Frightened and mentally disturbed, Trent threw himself around in the grass, trying so ever hard to stand up. He needed to wake himself from this nightmare. This had to have been a dream. It had to!

But all Trent accomplished was making a huge amount of dirt get all over himself and the grass.

"Need some help?" Asked Walter as he held out his right paw, his other paw clutching his cane. "You look as if you saw a monster."

Trent nodded fiercely, sweat and panic filling his face. Slowly, Trent held out his right paw, claws outstretched.

_Come on... Just grab his paw! Grab it!_ Trent's mind screamed.

Reluctantly, his paw intertwined with Walter's, its claws wrapping fiercely around Walter's fingers.

With great force, Walter pulled him up off the ground. Trent pressed his back paws into the ground and forced himself up, letting go of Walter's paw.

He nearly collapsed again.

"Woah!" Cried Walter as he grabbed ahold of Trent's paw again and stopped him from falling on his butt in embarrassment. "What's the matter? Can't walk?"

"No," groaned Trent as he forced himself back up, "I'm not used to walking on four legs; that's all."

Disturbed, Walter ignored that last statement. "You'll get used to it."

"That's easy for you to say," said Trent as he looked at Walter with his now dragon-like eyes, "You have two legs."

Walter looked down at his own legs and back up, his face blushing. "Well, that's different. Go ahead and try to move around."

Trent rolled his eyes. "Fine." He let go of Walter's paw and dug his own claws into the ground. Slowly, he took one step. Then another. _Right paw, left paw. Hind, right paw. Hind, left paw. Oh, this is so confusing!_

For another minute, Trent walked across the grass, walking around Walter in a circle. This still was going to need some getting used to, but it was getting somewhat easier.

Trent looked behind himself past his swinging, bronze tail spike. He looked at Walter with hope.

"You got it?" Asked Walter.

"Yeah..." Responded Trent as he looked at his front paws again and dug his claws into the ground.

"Good. Would you like to come with me back to Warfang? I think you might need to go get checked," said Walter with concern in his eyes.

"Warfang? What's that?" Asked Trent as he walked over to Walter.

"Warfang. The Dragon City. Us moles built it long ago as the capital empire for the entire Magic Dimension. Dragons go there day in, day out. You want to come?" Asked Walter. "I was just on my way there now. It's a few miles down the river."

"Uh... sure," replied Trent.

"Then follow me. And whatever you do, don't talk to anyone. Especially not the cheetahs," ordered Walter as he turned around and walked off down the beautiful, ever-flowing river.

_Cheetahs? They got those here, too?_Trent thought. But he followed the mole anyway.


End file.
